The Bechdel Test
by LemondropDead
Summary: Felicity and Laurel make a pact to pass the Bechdel Test but then everything goes horribly awry. Mild bad language, spoilers for Season 2 (Crucible).


**The Bechdel Test**

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A/N: Aside from the Moira/Thea conversations, Arrow really nuked the Bechdel Test. (The test: 1. Are there two female characters with names? 2. Do they talk together? 3. Is the conversation about something other than men?) So, I've decided to make fun of the show, the Bechdel Test, girly stereotypes, and how Ollie gets _all_ the girls. (Laurel, Sara, Helena, Shado, Isabel, I'm going to put money on him and Felicity getting together soon, shall I continue?)

Note: This is satirical crack and should not be taken seriously.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Arrow.

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The Starling City Spa is, like, the perfect place to chat it up with a couple of the girls while getting some much-deserved down time, so it's no surprise that on a late Friday afternoon, Felicity and Laurel decide to get out for some mud masks and cucumber slices. Being cooped up in offices for the whole week can really wreak havoc on a girl's complexion, you know, and in these high pressure jobs, whether you're a lawyer or an IT girl/secretary, it's very important to look flawless at all times.

"Ugh," Felicity groans as she leans back in her chair, face plastered with nourishing muddy goodness. "This was the best idea _ever_, Laurel. Seriously."

"I know, right?" The lawyer sighs, touching the edges of her mask as if to make sure it's there. "Dream come true."

"Yeah, I'm so glad we could get away from—"

"We're _not_ talking about any of _them_, remember, Felicity?" Laurel snaps. If there weren't cucumbers over her closed eyes and mud all over her face, it would be easy to see the sudden flare of anger in the form of angry eyebrows and a bright red flush.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Forgot about the Bechdel Test there for a sec."

Laurel sighs. "It's okay, Felicity, just don't let it happen again. We're trying to relax here, okay? This is our girl time."

The blonde IT girl laughs nervously. "Okay, gotcha. I was totally not going to talk about—"

"Ohmigosh stop it!"

"Jeez," Felicity complains, crossing her arms over her chest. "And I thought spa days were supposed to be _relaxing_."

"They are," someone new says. Her heels click as she walks up, she's wearing a black mask, and some of the spa patrons give her weird looks. But Helena Bertinelli just gives them the evil eye, swishes her glossy dark hair, and adds, "I think you two are trying too hard."

"Wait… Helena?" Laurel says incredulously. "Aren't you kind of a wanted criminal right now?"

Helena laughs and plops down on a chair next to Laurel. "Yeah, well, I'm back."

"Um, Laurel…?" Felicity twists her hands anxiously in her lap. Yeah, this spa day is totally _not_ relaxing. "You're friends with wanted criminals?"

"We're not friends!"

Helena smirks. "You might call us enemies. Mainly because she's competition."

Felicity exhales. If she didn't have cucumbers on her face, she'd roll her eyes. "Let me guess—"

"I already told you, we're _not_ talking about him!" Laurel hisses. "Helena, you're ruining my spa day!"

"Well," Felicity starts, "technically, you did just indirectly mention—"

"Shut up!" Helena and Laurel shout at the same time.

All of the spa patrons give them funny looks but when Helena waves her crossbow at them, a crazed, psychotic look in her eyes, they back off real quick and mind their own business.

"Um… how about that yelling, guys?" Felicity says tentatively. "What do you say about inside voices?"

And once again, she's glad that she's wearing cucumbers on her face because she suspects that Helena and Laurel are both currently giving her the death glare.

"Okay, awkward moment. Nice to meet you, Helena," Felicity says, trying to change the subject. "So… what's new with you?"

"Well, I just got this fantastic new crossbow," Helena says, playing with one of the bolts.

"Oh… that's, um, nice."

"Actually, it is," Helena hisses. "Want to know who got it for me?"

"No, not really." Laurel sighs loudly. "Why don't you go terrorize some gangsters, Helena? Felicity and I are just trying to have a nice, relaxing spa day, and somehow I don't think you came here to relax."

"Oh, please leave me out of this…" Felicity yanks the cucumbers off her eyes as she hears Helena growl, and then the crossbow clicks as the homicidal Huntress loads a bolt.

"I don't like you, Laurel Lance," Helena growls. "We have a score to settle."

Laurel just lays still, hands folded across her chest. "Yeah, well I don't like you either, Helena."

"You know, I think we should do something about that." Helena smiles.

"Guys… please don't fight…" Felicity gets off her chair and retreats a couple feet, eyes wide as Helena takes aim at the unsuspecting lawyer. "Hey, um, Laurel… you might want to open your eyes, I think Helena's got a craving for shish kabobs tonight… and this is a spa day, not take out night!"

Helena grins at Felicity and then aims, the bolt is ready to fly, and then—

"Oh, no you don't!"

A blonde in black tights comes hurtling into the room, crashes into Helena, and punches her in the face. It's Sara Lance, little sister turned super ninja, and, boy, is she _mad!_ In a split second, the two girls, Huntress and Black Canary, are brawling in the middle of the spa. Felicity ducks as a dish of cucumbers goes flying; innocent Starling City spa patrons scream and scatter at the chaos. Probably a good idea on their part. And Laurel Lance, fearless as ever, just lays there with her mud mask.

"Guys, stop!" Felicity yells. "Seriously!"

"This is not relaxing!" Laurel shouts, although she has no idea that Sara, her long lost sister, is fighting for her life a few feet away. "You guys are going to make me break out! I've had a bad week already!"

"Talk about a bad week," says Isabel Rochev, walking by in a pair of impossible stilettos. Considering the brawl in the middle of the room, she's really quite calm and collected. "I had to fly all the way to Russia just to get laid."

Felicity flushes dark red and shakes her fist at Isabel. "Just you wait, you mean old… tight skirted… 501(c) prostitute!"

"What did you just call me!?"

"I called you a cheap whore! So there!"

And then a slender Asian chick appears in the doorway, looking confused. "Hello… am I in the right place?"

"Who are you?" everyone shouts at once.

"My name's Shado," she says. "Is this the Ex-Girlfriends of Oliver Queen Anonymous therapy session?"

"Actually, the EGOQA meets at Big Belly Burger on Wednesdays…" Felicity starts, glaring at Isobel. "Not that I'd know or anything. Not an ex-girlfriend. Even though I sort of wish I was. Sorry."

"You're that chick from the island!" Helena shouts, and tries to shoot Shado with her cross bow. Shado dodges; the crossbow bolt buries itself in the doorframe right where she stood a second before.

"So fight me!" Shado yells at Helena.

"Maybe I will!" Helena shouts back while trying to punch Sara.

Isobel flicks off Felicity.

Laurel sticks her fingers in her ears. "I'm not listening!"

"You guys are all crazy!" Felicity cries. "Why on earth does everyone go crazy after sleeping with-?"

Laurel leaps up from her chair, yanks the cucumbers off her eyes, and grabs Felicity by the throat. "DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT NAME-!"

"Hey, guys! What's up?"

And then Oliver Queen walks through the spa door, clad in nothing but a silk bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. There's a mud mask plastered on his face, and he's grinning that stupid playboy grin that got everyone into his bed in the first place. Well, everyone except Felicity, and it's probably only a matter of time.

For a second, everything is dead silent.

"Hey, Felicity," Oliver says, completely oblivious to the death stares of the other girls. "What do you say about dinner tonight?"

Glancing around the room, she gulps and shakes her head really quickly. "You know, I think I'll pass."

_The End._


End file.
